Haven't Met You Yet
by Pandasushiroll
Summary: Dean works in Bobby's repair shop, Cas gets hired for his ability magically to fix things. Cas is awkward and weird to say the least, but that doesn't stop Dean from getting a big ol' crush on him. A fluffy humorous story of two guys who have a heart warming relationship that doesn't even know what to do with itself. (Destiel served with a big loving side of Sabriel)
1. It's Hip to be Square

_So this is not only my first Supernatural fic, it's also my first completely AU fic! This was spawned off a prompt I saw on a tumblr search that basically had Cas getting hired to work at the same auto shop as Dean just because he was good a fixing things. I'd like to say this version of Dean is meant to be a relatively awkward average joe that has a huge crush on Cas who is more based on his crazy/hippie version. _

_FULL DISCLOSURE! Firstly, I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors! Secondly, I'm writing this as a whimsical first try at actually completing a (hopefully) somewhat lengthy story! I dream that one day some of you may reference this fic as your cuddle buddy after reading a partially heartbreaking one (Twist and Shout I'm looking at you). It's nice and fluffy with some possible smut in the near future! And if I'm lucky, it will at least get you to smile. Or laugh your face off. I'll take either._

_Seeing as this is my first attempt at writing SPN I hope it isn't too awful, I did put a lot of hard work into this chapter. It's definitely the longest first chapter I've wrote so far. Anyway, I hope you and enjoy it and smile and I would love your faces if you would review to let me know how I did, what you think, and what you'd like to see happen!_

_And I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters~ Full credit goes to the rightful owners!_

* * *

Haven't Met You Yet

Chapter One: It's Hip to be Square

_# 2172: Why can't shampoo and conditioner ever run out at the same time?_

Dean's shower was on the fritz that morning.

The first telltale sign of a fritz-y shower: turning the knob nearly all the way over and still getting one temperature. The second: the shower head spurting out droplets like a machine gun firing many, many frigid bullets.

He scratched the back of his head, squinting at the misbehaving appliance, but ultimately shrugged it off. That was one way to wake up in the morning. At least it took care of any morning risers. Heh.

"Hey Sammy, showers' broken," He called through the slosh of ice and soap, doubtful of being heard. Another sign of a faulty shower: making loud metallic creature noises every time it was in use.

As usual, Dean had forgotten to not let his brother forget to restock on supplies, so he was left to use soap as a makeshift shampoo and then to condition the crap out of his hair.

"And we're outta shampoo too!" Didn't make much of a difference since his body was beginning to go numb from the onslaught of cold anyway. Maybe that explained why he accidently slipped and ended up cracking his head against the pale tiles behind him. That was going to be sore later, he could already feel the headache setting in.

He skipped the usual grace of soaping himself properly after that and went for the monkey wash; tackling only the smelly areas vigorously and grazing over everything else before hopping out and quickly toweling himself off. Dean was jumping up and down to shimmy into his uniform, stubbing his toe in the process and yelling "Fuck's sake!" shortly after.

Sam's voice floated in from somewhere in the house. "You alright in there?"

"Shut up!"

There was a pause. "Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

Then there was the manhunt for his work boots.

Dean sauntered into the kitchen area, having turned over the regular spots; underneath his bed, hamper, bathroom. All the normal places people left their shoes.

His brother was looming over the kitchen table scarfing down a scrumptious looking plate of pancakes and reading some report that looked about as thick as the bible. Dean flicked Sam's ear as he passed, briefly peering under the table in search of his boots.

"One's in the couch, the other is in the pantry." Sam muttered around his mouthful of pancakes after he swatted Dean for the show brotherly affection.

"Chew with your mouth closed," Dean frowned. Surely Sam had to know better than that. "What kind of doctor are you?"

"_Physician's assistant_, not a doctor. And I told you, _Mom_- I have to be precise when I'm at work, so at home I can be as messy as I like." Statement served with a warm side of bitch face.

Dean was too busy fetching his boots to give an eye roll. "How the hell do they end up in such weird places?"

"Maybe because you have the attention span of a goldfish?"

Dean glowered.

Sam shrugged and caught sight of the time. "I gotta go, your breakfast is on the counter," Suddenly he was herding himself up, his giant stack of papers into his duffle bag, and was out the front door calling a quick, "See you tonight," as he stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

Dean pursed his lips, glancing around the house now that all was quiet. "This place is a fuckin' mess."

xXx

"I can't believe this! It's a fuckin' mess!"

"That's what I said."

They were both ducked under the hood of a van that quite frankly shouldn't still be running. A safety hazard at best.

"The term is '_that's what she said_'' bro."

"There is no way in hell we can fix this." Dean turned from the horror show, pulling a clean rag out from his pocket to wipe his grease slicked hands.

"You wanna tell him?" Ash was talking around the huge wad of watermelon gum he was chewing. He glanced at the damage once more, blew a bubble, and then looked toward the driver's seat.

Dean sighed, shoulders sagging. "Not really."

"How is this thing even still alive?" The hood creaked all sorts of protest as it was eased shut. It was like getting cursed at by an old person. Or hearing nails scrape down a chalk board. Overall unpleasant.

"A freakin' miracle. That's how."

The monstrosity they were "working on" had rolled in this morning. Actually, it hadn't even rolled. The van had to be towed in on the account of the engine stalling and repeatedly cutting out. Just the thing Dean wanted after unceremoniously hitting his head in the shower, stubbing his toe, and hunting for his boots this morning.

But it was all hands on deck. Which as of right now included just Ash and Dean.

Dean liked Ash, they had been working together for six years now. Both employed by Bobby Singer, head of _Singer Auto Repair_. Bobby was about as ancient as the hills and about as pleasant as a punch to the face. So he was pretty much like every other old guy who stepped in for an absent father. He had known Dean and Sam since they were fleas-kids. Ash had come into the picture as soon as the boys entered middle school. Dean had befriended him on a whim at the sight of seeing his t-shirt. Nothing like a car logo and a mini mullet to break the ice.

Regardless, the guy had that mellowed out attitude that struck good cords with the Winchesters. Ash made Dean laugh with all his mannerisms and catchphrases, and that was good enough for him.

At the shop Ash was third in command, right behind Dean in second, with Bobby in first. Recently business had been good, but the boys didn't find themselves slowing down in the least. Bobby had them working like they could shut down at any moment.

Hence, the eyesore in front of them.

Ash looked downright disgusted, Dean was sure he mirrored the expression as the owner rounded the vehicle.

"So…can you fix it?" Skinny, unshaven, and a cowlick for a hairstyle. No wonder his car looked like crap. He couldn't even seem to take care of himself much less a vehicle.

The two mechanics exchanged a look.

Ash was the one to pipe up first. "The question, amigo, is not _can_ we fix it. But _will_ we fix it." He was like a modern forward speaking Yoda.

"Isn't that what you get paid for?" Smart ass.

Ash made a huge gesture of sighing. Dean smiled tightly, swiping a clipboard from the work table. "Look uh," He referenced the paper in front of him, "Andy, your van is-"

"A fucking mess. I've seen swamps more managed than this car."

The man called 'Andy' gave a grin that made him look high.

"Thank you, Ash." Dean shooed him away discreetly when Andy clasped his hands together.

"Look guys, it would be _really _awesome if you could work some sort of mechanic mojo here to get it at least running again. I mean, it would be _so _helpful and- you'd be doing me a HUGE favor." He made it sound so convincing.

Maybe Dean was stupid or maybe he liked a challenge or maybe Andy just had some sort of magical ability to make people do whatever he wanted, because the next words out of the Winchester's mouth were; "No problem, man!"

What?

xXx

Two hours later Dean was comfortably underneath a Chevy, squinting up at the filthy frame. It was like picking his way through a weed infested garden. Everything just looked like crap. "_Jesus. _It's called _maintenance, _man. Come on."

Ash was out getting lunch.

"Winchester!" And christ if Dean didn't nearly whack his forehead on that dirt encrusted underbelly.

Bobby's work boots appeared above his head. Dean rolled out forward from under the beast's belly to peer at the older man upside down. "Sup?"

"Got something I need you to take care of." His voice was gruff and blunt. That didn't sound good. A cryptic Bobby was not a Bobby Dean liked dealing with.

"What is it?"

"Get off your ass and come see." Was all he got before the old man turned and paced out of bay three.

If there was one thing Dean caught in all those afternoons from his childhood spent with Bobby fishing, camping, whatever, it was definitely that when the man walked away, you followed.

xXx

Dean had met a lot of people in his line of work. A lot of weird, interesting, unorthodox, odd people.

Odd, did not even _begin _to describe what walked into _Singer Auto Repair_ that day.

The man stood at almost the exact same height as Dean, which would have been alright if he hadn't been so caught off guard by the absolute _blue _he encountered as the man turned around and faced forward. When he could manage to tear his eyes from those endless pools of blue situated right above a very full looking mouth-

Okay no.

That was so no happening. Dean was so not going to get attracted to this new guy.

Nope.

He wasn't interested in the tall, lean form a foot in front of him that was so alluring he could have been carved by a God that enjoyed torturing Dean by putting extremely hot guys in his immediate vicinity. Never mind that hair that made him look like he had just had sex. Really great sex by the look of it.

No one should be that hot.

Seriously.

No one.

Dean found himself forgetting what a handshake was, mouth dry, palms suddenly sweaty.

What the literal _hell_.

The new comer gazed back with equal silence. And fuck if it didn't unleash a barrage of butterflies stupidly fluttering around in Dean's stomach. Going all the way from his toes to the top of his head. Those eyes could pierce the soul. And honestly, it felt like they already were. Those were the kind of eyes that could strip you bare and see everything you had to offer without asking. Those were the kind of eyes Dean usually avoided.

His only solace was Bobby's awkward cough, followed by a gesture almost as awkward as the silence that had just fallen. "Dean, this is the new guy-"

"Cas." He blurted. Dean and Bobby stared. He made a face as if he just realized what he said made no sense. "-ietl. Castiel. Nice to meet you." He didn't offer his hand to shake.

Bobby coughed again and gave Dean a look that usually meant, "You can deal with this," before taking his exit.

Dean nodded, dumb founded. What was he supposed to do with the hot new guy? Grab him and make out?

He shook that idea right out of his head, as appealing as it sounded. Castiel kept right on staring. Intently. It sort of made Dean uncomfortable. "Uh, the shop is this way." He swung away to avoid looking into those piercing blue eyes, leading Castiel into the bay area.

Dean could tell right away that things were only going to get worse from here.

xXx

"I should apologize," He said suddenly.

They were in the break room. Dean was in the process of making a fresh pot of coffee, hand hovering over the cabinet of mugs. "Huh?"

Castiel was scrutinizing him. Legitimately _scrutinizing. _Like a detective. A smoking hot detective.

"You know Cas," His fingers drummed against the counter stiffly, adjusting to his spontaneous use of a nickname. "The last time somebody looked at me like that I got laid."

No.

He did not just-

Dear God.

Cas on the other hand suddenly looked very amused, lips stretching into a toothy grin that nearly split his face right in half. Dean shuffled his feet, smiling despite the severe amount of embarrassment bearing down on him right now like a spotlight on stage. He felt all tingly in the base of his spine. It sort of made him want to squirm. It also sort of made him feel incredibly stupid.

"Is _that _how you initiate the new guy?" Dean was really starting to like the low scrape of Cas' voice. That wasn't creepy. Right?

He shifted his weight again when the coffee pot failed to produce coffee. Dean groaned and looked to the heavens. "This thing is broken too? You gotta be kidding me."

Cas was suddenly at his flank, which should have been unnerving. Probably would have been if he didn't smell so-

Okay. Dean was stepping away now.

"Does it do this often?" Cas prodded at the contraption experimentally, lifting the pot away and examining the rest of the machine.

"Pretty much everything around here is broken except for the cars."

Cas chuckled, low and quiet. "Well, it might help if you actually put mix _in." _He lifted the empty paper cup.

Oh. Okay. That was embarrassing.

Truthfully Dean had been so distracted by Cas just _standing there staring at him, _that he had forgotten the most important ingredient in coffee making. Coffee.

"Right. That might help." He fumbled for the coffee mix and shooed the other man away.

xXx

Dean learned very quickly that Cas was definitely a very special kind of guy. He had traits. Really adorably awkward traits.

They made Dean want to giggle.

Then he remembered he was a guy with balls and a dick. He had no time to _giggle._ It was unmanly.

Cas' adorable-awkward traits went as follows:

_Casism number one: when the going gets tough, get awkward_

**Example: **

_Tuesday _

"You want a cleaning?" Cas was helping a woman named Bela Talbot with her car. He was sitting across from her at the front counter, scribbling away every little thing she said. It was impressive how fast he could write left handed. He was left handed? That explained a lot.

"That's what it says on the paper, doesn't it?" Bela had a tendency to come off a little cranky. Especially when she flipped her well maintained curly hair over her shoulder and tapped those fake nails on the counter right before she spoke. He wasn't fazed by the biting edge to her words.

"Should we be using any sort of deep stain removers?" Her perfectly manicured brow rose. Cas elaborated. "Well if you want to get those sex juices out we'll have to-"

She scoffed, suddenly flushing. Which really stood out against the incredible paleness of her otherwise flawless skin. "You're disgusting!"

Cas raised both eyebrows in return, then rolled his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. "So…that's a yes to the deep stain remover?"

"What is it that you imagine I _do_ in my car?" She was leaning backward as if his presence appalled her. Cas deadpanned, glancing at the Ferrari to his right.

"Have a lot of sex?"

Dean slapped his hand to his forehead from the other side of the room.

_Casism number two: always take the unconventional path._

**Example:**

_Wednesday_

Cas was digging through a box of tools for God only knows what. Dean was to his left, eyebrow twitching in slight annoyance. The constant rattling of tools clanking against a metal container got old pretty quickly. "There isn't a prize at the bottom of the box if that's what you were wondering."

That got him a gravelly chuckle. He really liked that chuckle.

"Winchester!"

"Sup?"

"Get your ass in here!"

"Alright, alright. Excuse me Cas-"

But it was too late, the other mechanic was already squeezing himself in between two work tables to make way for Dean to pass.

"Oh. Okay." _Stepping aside would have been too easy. _"Thanks?" He felt incredibly guilty as he walked passed the other man. No one that large should ever squeeze in such a tight space. Unless sex was involved. Then squeezing was perfectly-

"Winchester!"

"Right! Coming!"

_Casism number three: cats are little balls of love and should be cared for._

**Example:**

_Thursday_

He was trying really hard to see Cas as a fully grown adult _male _who was his co-worker and a guy, and mature, and off limits and a GUY. But he was just so-

Precious.

Every day on his lunch break, Cas would mysteriously disappear.

It shouldn't have been surprising considering how unconventional the rest of the guy's behaviors were but still.

It didn't stop Dean from being infinitely curious.

One day his curiosity got the better of him and he discreetly followed- not stalked- the other man out of the shop to see where he went. It definitely wasn't because Dean had the suspicious jab of jealousy that Cas might be out having lunch with a girlfriend or whatever. Which wasn't even really his business. Can't a guy just follow another guy without it being creepy?

Apparently not.

To Dean's near undoing, Cas went down the street until he hit the corner, where he spent his lunch break caring for stray cats. By bringing them cat food and milk.

_Just stop_, he wanted to say. _Stop being so freakin' adorable. Because I won't be able to control myself._

_Casism number four: always keep your cool. Especially when you do something embarrassing._

**Example:**

_Friday_

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard the crash of metal hitting concrete followed by a comical _THUD _come from inside bay two. Cas had been working on some big guy named Tiny's F150 in that bay. The guy had looked a lot like an ex-convict. So messing up his car was probably not the best idea.

Dean leapt to his feet and went running way faster than he should have, swinging into bay two, ready to go into full on mother hen panic mode in case there were any injures. Namely to Cas, not so much the truck. "What the hell was that?"

Cas was in a heap on the ground, staring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers as to why he had fallen. He rolled over and pushed himself up with a little hop. "It's cool." He said in that low nonchalant way of his.

Yes, that was very obvious by the way he had taken out an entire stack of cans on his way down. They were spread precariously about the floor, some still rocking back and forth from the fresh encounter. Cas started nudging the cans with his feet to get them gathered and relatively in order.

Dean squatted to help clean up the mess. "What happened? Did you trip over a can or something?"

Cas paused and looked at him very seriously. "I didn't trip, I was testing gravity. It still works."

The last time Dean laughed for twenty minutes straight, he had super glued Sam's gangly fingers to his keyboard.

And probably the most important habit to note, _Casism number five: weirdness is a sign of a good friendship._

**Example:**

_Saturday_

The familiarly funky old tune drifted out from the office through the dust and sunny rays of a typical Saturday afternoon. It was Huey Lewis and the News.

And it was coming from bay two.

"_I used to be a renegade, I used to fool around,"_

Wait a second.

"_But I couldn't take the punishment and had to settle down,"_

Was that singing?

"_Now I'm playing it real straight, and yes, I cut my hair,"_

Was that _Cas _singing?

"_You might think I'm crazy_, _but I don't even care,"_

No freaking way.

Dean found himself being drawn in by that voice. That bizarrely tantalizing, low hum of a singing voice. He was like a fish on a hook. Like there was a rope around his waist, slowly reeling him in.

"_Because I can tell what's going on,"_

Seriously? It wasn't enough that Cas was insanely hot with just his looks? He had to have an insanely sexy singing voice too? _Sweet baby Jesus. _It was like getting a Christmas present in July.

Dean was pretty sure this guy was perfect. Socially awkward and a total klutz maybe but definitely perfect. At least, perfect for him. He was on the chorus when Dean paused in the doorway to watch the show, easing himself onto the door frame for support and crossing his arms. This ought to be interesting.

"_It's hip to be square,"_ Yes, yes it was. Cas' iPod was hooked up to a portable sound system. A miniature jukebox. Go figure.

Cas' dancing was very…Cas-like.

He moved really well for a tall guy with long limbs. Dean was almost lost in those lean, perfectly molded arms and legs as they swung around in some parody of dance moves.

Cas had a perfect pelvis, Dean noticed. And the control he had over those hips. _Forget it. _

He could picture fitting his hands to those angular hips, letting Cas wiggle around all he wanted. He was twisting his body in and out back and forth. It was hypnotic. Spellbinding even._ Damn._

And that _voice. Seriously._

All rough and edged just like the gradual curve of that mussed mass of dark waves on his head. Dean just wanted to rake his fingers through that ocean of dark hair and drag that moist looking mouth right onto his dry one.

Was he _trying _to drive Dean insane?

Splotches of grease stained his uniform, accompanied by blobs of soot. There were small black smudges along his cheek where Cas must have scratched his face.

He was cleaning up his area in between his version of dancing and singing. Plucking stray tools off the floor and setting them on the work table. His hips were always in motion. Even when his arms were busied with lifting empty boxes out of the way and stacking them against the wall. There was a rag hanging out of his back pocket. Dean just used it as an excuse to stare at his beautifully sculpted ass.

Then the music faded out, but Dean kept staring.

"You know Dean," Cas smirked, pulling him out of his daze, those cerulean gems were boring into his soul again. "The last time somebody looked at me like that I got laid."

Dean snorted. "Is that right?"

Cas nodded and pressed the pause button.

"So uh, what the hell was that?"

"I was dancing."

"You call _that _dancing?" Dean couldn't help the small lift of his lips.

Cas' face scrunched as he thought about it. Dean secretly found it adorable. On occasion, he'd purposely confuse the poor guy just to get him to make that face. That adorable, sweet face. Had he mentioned how adorable this man was? "Yeah, I thought it was alright."

"If you say so." An easy going shrug. Things were so simple, so comfortable and homey at the shop. Dean often let his guard slip in the company of the other mechanics without even noticing. It was nice to feel at home somewhere. He had lacked the feeling in his adolescent years.

"You don't agree?"

Dean lifted his shoulders again, "You just have a weird sense of dancing that's all."

The other man inhaled deeply, and puffed out the air in a great big sigh. "If I can't act weird around you Dean, then we can't be friends."

"Oh yeah?"

Cas smiled. Genuinely smiled, and it was brighter than pure sunshine on a beach horizon line. And three times more beautiful. It gave Dean that ridiculous feeling of bugs on the loose in his stomach, which he scratched at to distract himself from the huge rush of heat he felt in his face.

"Besides," Cas picked up his mini juke box from its happy little corner. "Weird is just as side effect of being _awesome._"

Dean wasn't going to lie. That time he blatantly checked out Cas' ass when he saw it pass by. And that time, he wasn't nearly as ashamed about it.

xXx

The first night Dean had come home after meeting Cas had been interesting. Mostly because Sam was already home. Which was a rarity.

The kid tended to work himself into a tizzy and then pass out on the couch with his dinner plate empty and his uniform still on. Then Dean would usually corral him up and into his room to clean up and to get into his bed so he that could sleep more comfortably. And somehow through the chaos of his day, Sam still found time to make himself and his brother all the important meals of the day.

That night Sam was up and talkative, beaming about his day at work. "We had surgery today, on a woman- her name was Alice."

The unscrupulous manner Dean pushed his vegetables around his plate didn't make them go away any faster.

Sam was still prattling on about how he had gotten to assist in his first major surgery, his brother had fallen into his "uh-huh" mode. Where he would occasionally nod and repeat "uh-huh" in reply to everything that was said. They called it flight mode. It was originally created for Dean's high school love affairs, where most of the girls involved didn't have much to offer beyond the physical. A shame really.

Sam could tell he was losing his brother in the conversion. "And then I threw a pie in her face."

"Uh-huh."

"Dean."

"Uh-huh?"

"You aren't listening to me at all are you?"

His brother glanced up and grinned around the large bite of garlic bread he had just taken. "Nope."

Sam returned the smile with his own twitch of lips, lifting his and Dean's plate to take into the kitchen. "Jerk."

"Bitch." He stood to help clean the dishes, only to have Sam shoo him away as soon as he approached.

Then the phone rang.

Dean picked up on the third ring, after a quick check of caller ID. "What's up buttercup?"

"Ah if it isn't my least favorite of the pair." A playful voice chuckled from the other side of the line.

"Shut up, Gabe. What do you want?" It was sort of ironic that Gabriel was calling. Dean had just been pondering where he had seen the similar awkwardness Cas exhibited before.

"Well I _was _just going to invite you and Sam to a dinner party to celebrate my own baby brother's arrival. But if you're going to be cheeky-"

"What time?"

Dean could practically hear Gabriel's smirk over the phone. The two went back far enough that Dean knew the guy's habits. Pranks, jokes, and quips were his style. That, and he knew how to make some ridiculously good desserts. The pies that man produced were nothing short of _heavenly._

"Tomorrow, seven o' clock."


	2. If something can go wrong, it will

_I now present you with chapter twooooooo! __So yeah this came out quicker than I expected it to. I normally don't update this quickly but I find myself excited to write the next parts of this story so here we are! __I made myself laugh a lot writing this chapter. Is that sad? *silence* It is isn't it? Oh well, it was fun writing and I hope you have fun reading!_

_If you review you'll be my favorite! I love getting feedback so please don't be shy! I don't bite! In fact, I snuggle! Unless you're not into snuggling. Then I'll...bite?_

_I do not own supernatural or any of it's characters~_

* * *

Chapter Two: If something can go wrong, it will.

_#2229: Rule of Math: if it seems easy, you're probably doing it wrong._

"Watching cartoons again baby brother?"

Castiel didn't look up from his slumped position on the couch, so fresh from the shower that multiple wisps of steam were still rolling off his skin. His sinewy legs were stretched out, feet bare and propped up, ankles crossed, eyes fixed on the screen flashing bright outlandish cartoons in front of him. Just like a teenager.

Looney Tunes was on and Elmer Fudd was classically hunting wabbits. Obviously because it was rabbit season and definitely **not **duck season. Castiel's face was the portrait of a serious contemplation with a hint of exhaustion as he watched the cartoon man fall on his ass for about the hundredth time in history. "Honestly, I have never seen anyone fall because of a banana."

"Oh yeah?" His brother appeared from around the corner toting a coffee mug already dressed in his scrubs. Fresh and primped, his hair was expertly gelled back and he smelled all clean and nice when he plopped himself down on the couch.

Castiel caught sight of the grainy white mug sporting a mustache on the front out of the corner of his eye. "You don't drink coffee."

"I know,"

There was a small lull while he yawned into his hand. "Is that ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Why don't you just put it in a bowl?"

Gabriel gave him that knowing smile, the one he used every time he was about to explain something everyone on the planet should already know. "Because _then _my hands would be cold." He said with a grin, dipping a slim dessert spoon into his mix of vanilla ice cream, chocolate fudge, and extra whipped cream. "Wan' sum?" He offered around a mouthful of the icy treat.

Castiel chuckled. "Ice cream for breakfast? Why not?"

xXx

Hospitals were a spooky level of clean. Dust, dirt, and grime didn't have a prayer of surviving in this jungle of sterilization. Everything was clean and pure.

Pure white.

White curtains billowed softly, riding on the gentle push of breeze that crawled in through the windows. Stainless steel winked at the bustling employees as they hurried by, reflecting little bits of whatever sunshine managed to sneak in through the clouds blotting out the sky.

"Samuel darling, where's that thingy I asked for?"

The voice was mockingly sweet, and one he knew all too well. Sam materialized with a clipboard stacked with patient's personal documents and the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. "How did you manage to make it through medical school?"

He humbly handed the sheets over when Gabriel titled his head back slightly to look up at him. The green in the older man's eyes lit up at the inquiry, familiar smile dimpling his cheeks.

"I cheated on all my tests obviously," He quipped as he started carding through the pages. It was a miracle he could read all that slanted hastily scrawled hand writing so easily.

Sam shook his similarly gelled head, trying to keep his "I'm not laughing because I'm a professional" face on. It wasn't working out too well. Especially when the other man was smiling at him like that. Gabriel couldn't help it. The kid was just _too damn fun _to mess with.

The routine was pretty set in stone by now. It seemed like only yesterday Sam had wondered in, fresh off the graduate bus, applying for a job. He had interned during his med school years, worked with some of the other doctors before he had crossed paths with Gabriel. At the time the older man had embarked on a quest to make things just a little bit more difficult than necessary for Sam. Pranks, dirty jokes, overly complicated directions for simple tasks. Thankfully it had all just been a precursor to the invitation to become his assistant.

He remembered the look on Sam's face vividly. The man had been sweating, which Gabriel had come to realize was just what Sam _did_, the guy was like a freaking heated fountain of sweat-

The look of complete and utter shock had been priceless. There had been a moment where Gabriel thought the kid was going to start crying out of either stress or relief. His trip through the hellternship hadn't been a total waste.

Things hadn't changed much since then. Aside from Sam's pay grade. That had gotten much better.

"_Paging Dr. Novak…" _The monotonous voice of the P.A. system bled in from the hall and bounced off the colorless thin walls of the office.

Sam went to the door immediately, gripped the knob and pulled the wooden door open. Geared up and ready to go. No wonder he got teased for being too eager by the other employees. Gabriel continued leafing through the hefty packet as he turned and walked out without looking up. He gave a short snort when he caught his assistant taking the time to ease the door shut behind them, out of his peripheral.

"Come on kiddo, we have work to do."

xXx

Dean wasn't so sure about all this "dinner party" crap with Gabriel and his family. He had been mulling the idea over as soon as he could process thoughts that morning. Which always started after a good breakfast. This morning he had been omelets for himself and Sam. They occasionally traded off cooking duties, as long as Sam always remembered to pack their lunches, and if he managed to win a round of rock paper scissors two times out of three.

One thing Dean worried about Gabriel's family; if they were anything like his friend in question, they were bound to be beyond strange. The "way out there" types. Like Cas far out there, if that was anything to measure by. He tried to picture what sort of weird hippie family could have produced such a joke on society, as he cleaned his work station. He also wondered what Cas' family could have been like.

Did he have a cranky old coot for a parent like Bobby? Smart but pansy siblings like Sam? A quirky childhood friend like Ash?

"Hey, you know-"

Dean made a noise that he wasn't proud of, visibly leaping at least three feet into the air. That abrasive voice at his ear that had no regard for normal human conversation protocol could only belong to-

"Damn it Cas! Don't do that!" Cas had manifested to his left.

His forehead wrinkled endearingly when he gave a curt "sorry". He looked from side to side as if expecting someone to walk in and reprimand him before his eyes refocused on Dean.

Cas was way closer than he should have been when Dean turned around. Warm presses of air were brushing across his face in a subtle caress. And he hated that it felt like he was in a movie. Two lovers staring each other down before they suddenly pounced, ripped each other's clothes off and had great cinematic sex.

Dean caught himself tracing the curve of Cas' jaw, the taunt pull of his throat, the sweat clinging to the dirtied white collar of his undershirt peeking out from under his uniform, two buttons undone. There was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his cheek that Dean desperately wanted to brush away with his fingertips. Or lick. Either was suit him just fine.

Whoa.

Rewind.

This was _Cas._ The same guy who tripped and fell over inanimate objects and ran into doors. The wooden ones. The type people could see coming from across the room. The same guy who spouted the most bizarre collection of facts at the most random of times. He was a total whack job. Completely insane. A total loon.

Not to mention hot as _fuck_.

_Damn it._

He tried leaning backward to put some distance between them, retraining his eyes on a fixed point above Cas' right shoulder to avoid looking into those endless pools of blue. It wasn't safe to look into them directly anymore. They encouraged inappropriate thoughts and urges.

"Cas," Dean was struggling to keep the shakiness out of his voice, just above a whisper. "We've talked about this. Personal space."

Cas looked down at the small space in between their bodies and looked surprised. Apparently he wasn't aware of how close he tended to stand to other people. Of course not._ Sweet Jesus._ That only made him cuter.

It also made Dean want to grab him and rip his clothes off.

Cas was back to business as soon as he back traced a few of his steps. "You know that sad moment when you dip your cookie into the milk for too long and it breaks off?"

_What?_

"That just happened to me." He said very plainly, absently tugging at the top of his uniform to fan himself.

The amount of confusion that hit Dean in that moment would take years to measure. "…Okay?"

"That is all." Cas waved a hand vaguely in the air in a dismissive fashion and pivoted away to take his exit.

Well, at least he wouldn't have to battle with the urges he was having at dinner. To throw Cas down and take him right there in the shop. Right there on the cold concrete floor.

Okay.

Back to work before he had to take a cold shower. Dean tried to take comfort in the thought that Cas would be absent at dinner as he returned to tidying his station, but instead found himself fighting to push the fantasies that came to mind out of his head.

xXx

"So are you and the new guy fucking or what?"

Dean hastily turned away to cough and sputter his soda into the corner and then groaned at the loss. "Ash! Come on."

His friend shrugged, hitched both eyebrows up and leaned back in his chair. Ash was sitting in the chair at the front counter, Dean up on the actual countertop. "It's not my fault you two are always making eyes at each other, bro. What's the deal?"

Dean dragged the hand that wasn't cradling his ham and cheese sandwich down his face, rubbing his fingers at the gentle scrape of stubble on his chin when they reached the bottom. "I keep telling you, nothing is going on. I don't even _swing that way, man."_

Ash fixed him with one of those "yeah right, and I'm the president of the United States" looks. The other man relented and stared at the ceiling to keep Ash from seeing the pink suddenly dusting his cheeks.

"I mean I don't _usually _swing that way. There. Happy?"

"I'm always happy compadre."

Dean snorted. "Uh huh, and I'm Martha Stewart."

"Then why do you always have your brother pack you lunch?"

It was quiet enough that the sound of Dean slapping his forehead could be heard in the next room. Everyone has that one friend who never really has a clue of what is going on. For Dean, that friend was Ash. "Forget it, Ash."

"So anyway, are you gonna sleep with him or-"

"Ash! We are so not having this conversation right now."

A pregnant pause.

"Do you want some pie?"

Dean sighed, happy to change the subject. "Is that even a real question?"

xXx

The hour was nearly upon them.

Dean cleaned up pretty well, for a guy that had next to no fashion sense. Not like he really _needed _any. With a handsome mug like his? Besides, fashion sense was not a requirement manly men like him needed.

Black leather jacket, over a soft navy button down, covering a plain white tee, a good clean pair of jeans, a pair of moderately nice shoes, and he was ready to go. Pretty damn classy for a dinner party at Gabriel's. Though he couldn't fathom _why_ Sam insisted he dress up in the first place.

His brother was waiting for him by the front door, fiddling with the keys to his much less awesome car, the way a high school girl did before her first date.

"You okay there, Sammy?"

Sam's eyes jerked up. He gave a nervous smile, scratched his face, and swiped his hair back for the tenth time before he actually spoke up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get going."

"You think they'll have any pie?" Dean called and followed his brother out the front door. "I love me some pie."

xXx

"Are you sure these are safe?" Castiel prodded suspiciously at the plate of treats in question as they sat inconspicuously on the kitchen counter. The first clue had been the gaudy choice in decorative plate. A fat Italian chef cradling a plate of what looked like lasagna with the word "pasta" in friendly looped letters. What kind of person used a fat Italian man to advertise brownies?

"Make one of our guests taste test them first, if you're so worried about it." Gabriel was too busy with delegating plates and silverware in their proper places to set a space for everyone at the table, to give much merit to the conversation.

Castiel's eyebrow twitched. "I don't know if I want one of your co-workers to get murdered by one of our brother's pranks."

There was a pause in all of the older man's hustling and bustling. "Oh. Right. So, I should probably tell you…My co-worker's name is Sam."

Another small lull for Gabriel to clear his throat and swallow.

_Where had he heard that name before?_

"Sam Winchester."

_Oh yeah._

"And he's bringing his brother."

_Oh shit._

"Gabe-"

"Remember that time that I said I would leave your personal life alone because of that whole business with what's-his-name? Yeah, I totally lied about that." He gave a sheepish smile, and ducked back into the kitchen.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and called into the next room, "Are you doing this for me or because you want to see Sam Winchester in something other than scrubs?"

"Would you believe a little of both?"

A sassy eye roll, not that Gabriel was around to see it. "I am not letting Dean eat anything that demon cooked."

One of their brothers had stopped by earlier that day to drop off a "peace offering"; a batch of freshly made brownies.

"Oh he isn't so bad, Cassie. Just frequently misunderstood."

The doorbell rang.

"He's still an asshole," Castiel muttered under his breath as he went to answer the door.

xXx

Sam was fidgeting with his clothes, kicking nervously at the tiny rocks on the front stoop, and annoying the crap out of his brother.

"Sam. Settle! _Jesus._" Dean slapped Sam's hands away from fiddling with his clothes and fixed him with his "serious big brother" stare.

"Maybe we should-" He turned to leave just as Dean anchored him to the spot by grabbing his elbow.

"Oh no, no, no. We already drove_ all _the way down here and got all dressed up, we're staying for dinner. Besides, they could have pie in there. _Pie, _Sam."

That wasn't helping his cause at all. Sam still looked like a girl freaking out about her first big boy crush. "Seriously? Gabe isn't even _hot_ why you are so-"

Dean cut himself off when he heard the door give a small creak as it opened, let go of his brother, and turned to see-

Cas.

Staring directly at him. Wearing a vest over a _navy cotton button down._

_You have __**got**__ to be kidding me. _"Um. What are you-"

The door slammed shut.

Dean pursed his lips and turned. It was Sam's turn to be the anchor.

"Oh no, no, no," Sam echoed Dean's earlier scolding, "We already drove _all _the way down here and got all dressed up, we're staying for dinner." A wicked grin crossed his mouth. "Besides, they could have pie in there. _Pie,_ Dean."

"Oh shut up."

The door swung open again just in time for Dean to tack on a quick, "bitch" in whisper form.

It was Cas again. He looked directly at Dean and said, "Hello, Dean."

Dean pressed his lips together in a tight smile. "Hi, Cas."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "_This _is Castiel?"

"Ah, you must be Samuel."

xXx

Introductions were awkward at _best. _And Gabriel was still too busy bustling in and out of the kitchen to be much help to Dean or Cas.

Dean stared at Cas, chastising himself internally for not piecing together that the _Cassie_ Gabriel sometimes referred to on the phone had been the equivalent of his _Cas._

_His _Cas? What the hell?

Cas was looking around the room for a few moments before he offered to get the Winchesters something to drink. Which they both blurted a quick yes to before he had even finished asking the question.

Sam meanwhile, was caught in the middle, looking back and forth between his brother, the room, and Castiel when he returned with their drinks. Sometimes he caught glimpses of Gabriel as he hurried in and out of the room.

_Jesus. _It was Sam's eighth grade birthday party all over again.

xXx

When everything and everyone had finally settled down things started looking up.

Gabriel was a good host, mediating conversations, introducing everyone again with minimal awkwardness. He laughed when Dean accused him of lying about his siblings. "I never said Cassie was a _girl, _Dean. You just assumed. And you know what happens when you assume." He wiggled his eyebrows and took a bite of the chicken on his plate.

Dean rolled his eyes, glancing at Cas and then the empty spot beside him. Sam had gone to the bathroom some time ago.

"Dean," Cas said suddenly, touching his fork and knife together awkwardly. "I um- Sorry for not telling you before. I was going to tell you at lunch today but…"

This wasn't the usual Cas.

_He was nervous_, Dean realized, and felt a flood of gooey warmth rush through him. This was nervous Cas, who did sweet things like fiddling with his silverware and looking to his brother for encouragement. This Cas rolled his tongue along his lips when he was thinking of something to say, pushing at the inside of his bottom lip when he debated internally. Whose eyes twinkled when he gave Dean fleeting glances from under those thick black lashes.

_God he was so fucking cute._

Sam made his entrance by none too discreetly thwacking his hand against the door frame when he walked back into the room. Gabriel looked up in surprise, Dean cleared his throat. "Uh, Cas?"

"Yeah?" It was killing Dean how quiet and soft Cas' voice was right now.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

He looked mildly surprised by the request but nodded and pushed himself up from the table, murmuring "excuse me" to his brother before he paced out. Dean echoed the same dismissal before he trotted out after him.

xXx

They were in the hallway by the bathroom now, standing in silence.

"You make me quite nervous, Dean."

Dean's mouth opened, and then flopped closed when he couldn't think of the words right away. "How?"

"You're just so different from everyone else I know. I feel like we share a more profound bond."

Dean chuckled at that, "Oh yeah? Now you're starting to sound like some mystic being that's never had a friend before, Cas."

Cas gave him a thoughtful frown.

"Really? Come on, you've had friends before." Dean swallowed, "Right?"

He was looked up as if the memories were on the ceiling and he was sorting through them with just his eyes. "Not like you."

"Oh," Dean's throat suddenly felt tight, his heart beat picking up pace in his chest. Why did he suddenly feel like the kid he was back in high school and he had just told his crush his true feelings?

Cas was looking at him again, blue eyes shining with a distinct sense of appreciation, like Dean was the only thing he could see and the rest of the world had just faded into a blur of colors. "You just accept me, Dean. That's what I like about you."

_Oh shit._

Did Cas just say he liked him? Dean could kick himself for feeling so light headed right now, but then he'd probably fall on his ass and make an idiot of himself. He started mentally singing the lyrics to a Metallica song. That usually calmed him down. He gave Cas a wary smile, "Thanks, Cas."

"No problem. Now," He clapped an arm around Dean's shoulder and turned them around, "Let's have some dessert."

Dean just tried to focus on Cas' words and not his arm or body or warmth or mouth-_fuck_ why had he agreed to come to this dinner part in the first place?

xXx

Gabriel and Sam were sharing a laugh about something in the kitchen when they got back. The joke must have been really funny because they were laughing pretty damn hard. Like red faced hard. Sam was on the ground in a fit of hysteria, and Gabriel was leaning over the sink clutching his stomach as if that would help contain all this laughter.

Cas scrunched his face at his brother and Sam, while Dean zoned right in on the plate of brownies on the counter, oblivious to the obnoxious amount of racket going on in the background.

"Gabe?"

Gabriel turned, swiping at the drop of water rolling down his cheek. "Hey, bro." He leaned back, awfully chilled out.

Then Cas got the idea. "Wait Dean don't-"

But Dean was already in the middle of his second brownie. The chocolate treat was hanging halfway out of his mouth. "Wha?"

Cas sighed, shoulders slumping. "I have to be the sober one tonight? Fuck."

Dean shivered, hearing Cas curse was like dumping a pale of cold water over his body. He chewed the remainder of the brownie, as Cas rounded Sam up off the floor and herded him out into the living room. Gabriel just discovered he was in front of the kitchen sink, that it granted the magical gift of _water_, and proceed to start splashing the person closest to him.

Which just so happened to be Dean.

"Hey, cut that shit out man!" He growled, the seriousness in his voice muffled by the thick amusement suddenly coating his tone in a chocolaty shell. Dean was starting to feel _really_ good. Like drunk off his ass good, but without the burning sensation alcohol left behind.

Gabriel stuck out his tongue.

Dean grinned, and did the same.

A war of throwing things at each other from across the room began.

xXx

By the time Cas had gotten Sam squared away with a blanket and a place to sit on the couch, Dean and Gabriel had made a warzone out of the kitchen.

Cas arrived just in time to catch Gabriel lifting the extendable head of the faucet, taking his aim at a fast approaching Dean, and firing. Dean retaliated by smearing now soggy chocolate chip brownie all over his face and almost into his nose.

It would have been hilarious if Cas wasn't the person who was going to have to be responsible and clean everything up. He snorted when the two men slipped and fell onto the wooden floor.

Not so much when Dean banged his head on the counter on the way down.

"Oh shit," Gabriel sobered suddenly, scrambling at the same time as Cas to Dean's side.

The crowning moment of the evening happened in a span of less than a minute.

Sam was suddenly rushing in, having heard the commotion and launched into doctor mode to save the day-

Cas had practically sprinted across the slippery floor to get to Dean-

At the same time that Gabriel scrambled from his sprawled position on the floor to do the same-

And that was when all hell broke loose.

Sam slipped and face planted right onto the water slicked wooden floor, Cas and Gabriel's foreheads cracked together as they both hovered over Dean, who at that moment decided to sit up and announce that he was in fact A-Okay and got a reflexive punch to the nose when Cas accidentally flailed in response to the head crash.

Everyone was suddenly groaning and cursing all at once.

"What the fuck?!"

"Oh shit-"

"God damn it!"

"Holy mother of Jesus!"

xXx

Gabriel was rubbing his forehead while Cas fretted over Dean, who was clutching a now profusely bleeding nose on the floor. "Oh God-Dean I am so sorry!"

Sam was still trying to get up without killing himself, which was proving to be very difficult with water and bits of chocolate brownie everywhere.

Dean was waving dismissively at Cas with his one free non-bloodied hand.

But the house eventually fell back into order when everyone got their shit together

xXx

"Fuck Sam, you look like you got in a fight with an elf at the cookie factory."

Sam and Gabriel exchanged a look but continued checking Dean's head for bumps and whatever the hell else doctor's checked for. "And shouldn't you be sanitizing or something?" He was clutching a rapidly reddening tissue, with his head tilted back.

They had migrated to Gabriel's bathroom to "treat" Dean. The two doctors were hovering over his spot on the toilet, completely ignoring all his jokes and complaints.

"The term is _sterilizing_, Dean. And stop whining, we're checking to see if you have a concussion."

Cas was cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

"He should be fine, but you better have him come in tomorrow morning for a proper check-up, just in case."

"No way in hell-"

"Sounds good, I'll bring him in myself if I have to."

"Where's Cas?" Dean's voice sounded weird to his own ears, nasally as a result of his nose clutching.

Gabriel didn't even try to hide the blatant smirk on his face. "Cleaning the kitchen, I'll send him back."

Dean glowered them all the way out the door.

xXx

His nose had finally stopped bleeding by the time Cas made it to the bathroom to check on him. For whatever reason Dean couldn't fathom, Cas was shirtless. Not that he was complaining.

The dirtied button down shirt he was clutching got tossed casually to the side as he strode in, and there was a brief moment where Dean hoped-_shit Cas was going to sex him back to health. _His eyes were glued to the lean abdomen approaching, tracing the sharp lining of hip bone that peered just above the low rise of Cas' jeans.

"Um. Hi," He croaked, Dean felt dumb. Why was he talking?

Cas blinked at him, glancing down at himself almost self-consciously. "Oh, sorry. You and Gabriel had a chocolate and water war and my shirt was one of the casualties."

"Hm, that so?" Dean licked his lips, not sure what the fuck he thought he was doing as he reached for Cas, who had come to a stop a foot in front of him. Heat crept up his fingertips and into his arm from where he touched Cas' bare arm to tug him closer.

Their eyes were fixed on each other, Dean breathing in the utter _closeness_, and letting his fingers wander where they shouldn't. Cas inhaled deeply when Dean touched his stomach, tracing down, dipping briefly into his navel-

"Dean?" He was confused, pretty blue eyes clouding over with something Dean recognized as hopeful arousal.

"Cas I-" Dean was pulling, clutching now at Cas' slim hips, pulling forward and pushing down at the same time, his body went willingly.

"What is it?" Cas knelt in front of him, faces now level, blue tracing the remnant trail of dried blood lingering around Dean's nostrils. "What do you want?" Their eyes locked again.

Dean felt light head again, the sudden rush would have knocked him off his feet had he been standing. The look in Cas' eye was driving him insane. Pupils dilating, black pushing over blue, glazing over in another coat of definite arousal.

Before it became a conscious thought he was leaning forward, slanting his mouth over Cas'. Dean closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time human contact had felt so _good._ So natural.

His fingers combed into that thick nearly black hair, edging himself off the toilet seat. He pressed into Cas to get friction, warmth, _closer. Anything that was more of Cas._

Nails were digging into Dean's clothed back, raking down as they toppled backward or forward. He didn't give a fuck. All Dean registered was Cas suddenly underneath him, hugging him to his glorious half-naked body. Dean shifted himself up, hips sliding against Cas' involuntarily, gaining an approving hiss from the other man.

It was overwhelmingly easy, making out with Cas. Dean was kissing and pressing and pawing at the other man like there was no tomorrow. His head rushing with a sudden need to have as much of Cas as he could get _as soon as possible. _He groaned against that beautifully talented mouth, opening his eyes to take in the scene.

Cas was panting underneath him, staring right back. The confusion was gone, replaced by an urge that reflected Dean's intentions perfectly. The sight sent an excited jolt straight down to his cock. He leaned down to mouth at the solid line of Cas' collarbone, reveling in the deep groans he was able to drag out. The fingers at his back skated down until they hit the dip just before the curve of Dean's ass, slipping underneath the waistline of his jeans.

_Fuck why had he waited so long to do this?_

Maybe it was the mind blowing relief at giving into the fantasy of finally _having _Cas all to himself, but his heart was pumping, black cutting out the corners of his vision-

Wait a second.

Why was everything suddenly turning sideways?

The last thing Dean registered was Cas' concerned voice calling his name, barely reaching his ears, and Cas sitting up to catch him before he hit the cold tiled floor.

xXx


	3. This should end well

_Hello my little tea cakes! If you've made it this far I already want to marry you! _

_So warning for the chapter ahead there is much M rated-ness! Be aware my maties! This chapter is kind of a doozy. But in the fun way._

_I have way too much fun making Dean a pervert. And Gabriel's kind of a troll._

_Anyway, as a heads up in a about two weeks I'm going to move. Which means that in the near future I'll be busy packing (or slacking off) so if the updates are a little slower than they are right now I apologize in advance. I might get a little behind on posting but I'll try and keep writing even if I can't access this site._

_Now that my news is out of the way, please read and enjoy and review because I'm needy and like when people let me know what they think xD._

_I'LL GIVE YOU THE CANDY THAT VAL-CREATIVE THREW AT MY FACE I SWEAR. :D_

_As always I do not own SPN or any of the characters in this story._

_Enjoy~_

* * *

Chapter Three: Where have you been all my life?

_#2167: If at first you don't succeed, try something easier._

"You think he's dead?"

The exasperated sigh that followed could only belong to Sam. "Gabriel-"

"I'm only kidding, kiddo." He snorted at his own joke, how lame.

Dean wasn't entirely sure where he was, but his eyelids felt heavy and uncooperative. It was like someone had super glued them to his face to keep them shut. He reached up to sluggishly rub at his right lid in hopes of coaxing it open. The world around him seemed much louder than it had when he had last been awake. A dull headache throbbed behind his closed eyes.

What the hell happened?

Apparently Dean had managed to speak around the tight squeeze of dryness in his throat after all, because Sam was the one to answer him. "You got high off of Gabriel's brownies, acted like an idiot, fell, hit your head, and got a bloody nose."

Gabriel chimed in from what sounded like the left corner of the room, "Those weren't actually _my _brownies. They were my brother Nick's. It was one of his pranks."

Sam scoffed. "Because drugging both your house guests is _so _funny."

"I got drugged _too. _That's fair, right?" Gabriel was feigning innocence and it definitely wasn't working.

Dean sounded so pathetic to his own ears with his voice stuck in a sad croak. "Where am I?"

"I wanted to take you to the hospital, but your brother said you'd flip shit so you're in Cas' room instead."

Dean finally cracked his eyes open, and _shit _it was brighter than it should have been. Cas' room slowly blurred and then came into focus, but he was having a hard time taking in the plainness of it with his head pulsing in protest. His eyes fell on Sam. "Where's Cas?"

"He went out, said he had to go in early for something."

Cas had left already?

Dean's heart dropped into his stomach. _Aw fuck. _Now he'd done it. He'd royally fucked it up with Cas, and they hadn't even gotten the chance to have sex.

Wait no. _Be friends. _That's what he meant.

Now it didn't matter what Dean wanted because whatever he had done last night, had clearly been the wrong move. For the most part he remembered dinner, laughing his ass off, making out with Cas and-

_Oh._

He took a second to let that marinate in his brain.

_Whoops._

xXx

Eventually, Dean was dragged out of Cas' room, stalking out slow and sleepy, Sam guiding him by the shoulders. His brother drove them home and coddled him all the way back into the sanctuary of his room, where he closed all the blinds and kept the lights off to let Dean sulk in misery.

His head hurt like a bitch, his nose was tender and swollen, and Cas was mad at him.

Could it get any worse?

Sam tried to coax him into eating lunch, but he couldn't have been less hungry. Dean's appetite was in the same place his luck was, down the shitter.

_Fuck my life, _Dean thought as he tried to grab some semblance of sleep.

xXx

The next few days rolled by in a blur of Dean wandering around the house recovering from a severe headache. His nose had deflated with the help of Sam's magical home remedies to reduce swelling on the skin. Thank God. Because he really didn't need another reason to avoid seeing Cas.

At some point he had dropped by the hospital to let Gabriel look him over. In the strictly_ non-sexual_ way. Minor concussion, but Dean was also informed that he was currently suffering from an extreme case of self-pity.

_Just talk to him._ Gabriel had said, patting his shoulder. _Things will be fine, you'll see._

Dean was too busy fighting between enjoying the vague memory of making out with Cas or being worried about how _not worried _he was that he had almost had sex with another **man**. _Hey, _he reasoned internally, _if the guy's hot enough. I'm just saying. I've slept with girls for less._

All he knew was, when the next work day rolled around, he was finding Cas and sorting this whole mess out.

xXx

It was completely and utterly pathetic how worried Dean was about walking into _Singer Auto Repair _the next morning. Worse than a hormonal woman worrying about her co-workers remembering something embarrassing she had done at a party. Where had his manhood gone?

Bobby was there to greet him at the front counter as soon as he walked in, sipping a piping hot mug of coffee gingerly. "Heard you made an ass out of yourself at Gabriel's."

Wow. Embarrassing news travelled fast. Just what he wanted at seven o' clock in the morning. To be ridiculed by a cranky old fart for his stupid choices.

Dean rolled his eyes, secretly trying to quell his quivering nerves. "I did not, somebody spiked the desserts."

That got an intrigued grunt. "There's a Camaro in bay number one,"

Thankful the bonding session with Bobby was officially over, Dean gave a two fingered salute and was on his way.

xXx

He didn't spot Cas that day until just after lunch. He was walking into bay three, shoulders tensed, eyes down. The usual halo of light awkwardness wasn't hanging around him today. It was obvious that something was on his mind, troubling him. It just wasn't clear as to what that might be.

But Dean had an idea.

_Shit._

Cas was really upset.

Maybe he should wait until later.

Or until tomorrow.

Or until the day after that.

So Dean waited for three more days before finally getting the courage to confront Cas.

xXx

He felt so small and nervous as he approached the bay doors, dragging his feet to prolong the inevitable. This was it. He was going to get yelled at, and his heart would break because Cas was upset and why did it _bother _him so much? Why did Dean care? It wasn't like they had known each other a long time. He didn't make any promises. They weren't even dating. _Jesus._

_Here goes nothing. _He took a deep breath.

Cas was craned over a Harley Davidson motorcycle, tinkering away at something on the front of the bike. It was huge, likely bigger than the mechanic working on it if it was stood up vertically.

Dean knocked his knuckles against the steel frame of the bay doors, mentally reciting every Metallica song that came to mind to help steady his nerves.

Cas glanced up.

_This is where you grovel and apologize for acting like a jackass._ Dean knew about a million different things he should say.

_Sorry._

_My bad._

_I'm an ass._

_Nice weather we're having?_

All of which wouldn't be enough to quell the quaking in his nervous stomach.

"Hi." He said dumbly.

Cas' mouth turned up at the sides and Dean exhaled a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. "Hello, Dean."

Dean was patting over his heart to ease the rapid beating of it before he passed out. Well, that could have gone worse. He glanced from the motorcycle to the mechanic, moseying over until he was an arm's length away. "So…about the dinner party-"

"It's alright," Cas blurted, swallowing and twisting the adjustment on the wrench he was holding. "I know you just want to be friends." He rolled his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. Something he did when he was nervous.

If Dean were a car he would have screeched to a halt. He blinked, staring blankly at Cas. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"_Oh."_

"You just want to be friends right?"

"Is that what you want?" Dean gulped, afraid of what the answer might be.

"Isn't that why you've been avoiding me?"

"Is that what you think I've been doing?"

One of Dean's eyes twitched, a small bundle of wrinkles appeared between Cas' eyebrows.

"I asked you a question first," Cas pointed out, pursing his lips lightly.

"Hahaha." Dean looked at the ceiling, hands on his hips for lack of a better place to put them, he shuffled his feet. He felt incredibly stupid, but let his eyes fall on Cas again after a few moments of silence. "No I don't want to be friends."

"Oh." Cas visibly slumped, sagging into a sad looking puppy dog. It was heart breaking. He cleared his throat, fingering the collar of his undershirt to tug on it. "Well this is awkward."

Dean chuckled, setting his hands on the other man's shoulders. "I definitely don't want to be friends with you, Cas."

"Well there's no need to be so _rude _about it." Blue eyes flashed hurt, and suddenly Cas couldn't look him in the eye anymore. He turned his face to the right, swallowing silently. Dean's hands tipped off his shoulders, gliding down until they caught each one of Cas' hands in one of his own. It took him by surprise, his entire body stiffened.

"What I mean is; I don't _just _want to be friends."

Clearly he hadn't been expecting Dean to say that, because his eyes abruptly snapped forward again. _"Oh."_

"Oh." Dean grinned.

"Ohhhh." Cas was languidly reaching forward, hands still entwined with Dean's, until he got his arms wrapped around his waist and Dean was forced to let go in order to return the hug. His head tilted up once Dean's arms were around him, pressing a smiling kiss to the other mechanic's mouth.

"You're damn straight 'ohhh'," Dean mumbled against his mouth, Cas chuckled.

"Straight is a relative term right?"

They would have stood there holding each other for hours, but were forced to split when Dean was called into another bay to work on some old Honda. He didn't leave before pressing another quick kiss onto an unsuspecting Cas.

xXx

Sneaking around stealing kisses for the rest of the day was the most fun Dean had been gifted with in a long while.

It became a game between the two of them, to see how much they could get away with without being noticed.

Cas was a master of this. He was also a cocktease.

xXx

"Dean," Cas' deep voice rolled over his right shoulder. Dean tried to turn his head and catch the other man off guard with a kiss, but was easily evaded. "I'm not here to kiss," He scolded

"Damn it Cas," Dean turned around and pouted shamelessly. What was the point of playing coy now? It was already obvious how he felt about him. Dean could hardly wait for work to end so that he could sweep the other man away and make it very clear how attracted to Cas he was.

Cas leaned forward, angling his head up slightly so that his mouth was hovering over Dean's top lip. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"I thought you weren't here to kiss."

"I'm not."

"Then what do you call this?"

Neither of them made a move to lean forward or backward. Cas grinned, lips barely ghosting over Dean's. "I call it very close talking."

"Can we very close talk at dinner?" Dean ventured.

"We can talk very, _very_ closely at dinner." Cas confirmed with a nod, intentionally slotting his mouth over Dean's for an actual kiss. It was deeper than he had intended, what with Dean's hand suddenly at the back of his head, locking him into place.

"Naked?" He managed in between all the tongue fucking.

"Dean," Cas whined against his mouth, which was nearly swallowed in all of the prodding Dean's tongue was doing, and only gained a growl in response. "I have to get back to work," He finally managed to pry himself free after a few minutes of breathless, intense kissing.

Dean's eyebrows were raised in question. _Naked? _He prompted again silently.

"Naked." He finally consented.

That brought on the most provocative smile. "See you tonight!" Dean punctuated the sentence with a slap on Cas' ass when he turned to walk away. It got him the most adorably disapproving look.

xXx

"You know what I realized about hospitals?"

Sam was shuffling through a stack of patient records in some valiant attempt to organize the wretched pile on Gabriel's desk. "What?" He asked without looking up.

"You can go almost anywhere you want if you look serious and carry a clipboard."

"Oh yeah?" He squinted at the paper in his hand, how the hell was he supposed to read that?

"Yeah." Gabriel was tugging on both sides of the stethoscope hanging from his neck.

"When is the last time you looked at these papers?" Sam tilted the page toward him, as if to say _I mean look at this!_ That got him a chuckle.

"Seeing as I put the pro in procrastinate, I have not a clue," He said with a shrug.

Sam just barely kept himself from slapping his palm to his forehead. Just. Barely. Somehow a guy who went around playing pranks, ate candy, never took anything seriously, and only considered recording tv shows at home to be a considerate crisis had graduated from a top tier medical school. It was truly amazing what you could get away with these days. Maybe Gabriel was one of those secret geniuses.

_Then again,_ Sam relented, he had seen the other man accomplish some pretty amazing things.

Cheering diseased children up with jokes and the candy he carried on his person at all times, bringing a patient on the verge of death back to good health, waking a patient from a coma. He tried to not let his inner fangirl show, but all and all Sam was thoroughly impressed.

And distracted.

Which is why he yelped and jumped when Gabriel's face was suddenly directly in front of his. "Um. Can I help you?" He got a suggestive eyebrow wiggle for that inquiry.

Gabriel had his hip propped up on the desk, putting his weight on one arm as he leaned forward. "You need a break," Well that was a serious note. How out of character.

Sam gave him a wary smile. "I'm okay."

"No really," He pried the stack of papers Sam was shuffling away from him. "You're overworked, kiddo."

Sam stiffened, leaning back in Gabriel's big black chair. He fit in it really well, which was odd considering the other man's smaller size. What did he need such a large chair for? Was he compensating for something? The corners of his mouth may have barely twitched upward. "What do you suggest?"

Gabriel looked him dead in the eye and said very seriously, "Sex."

"_Sex?" _Sam's voice was an octave higher than it should have been.

Gabriel stared at him as if _he _were the immature, perverted one, who carried around candy and offered it to children. There was a bottle of water on the desk next to him. He picked it up and unscrewed the cap. "Yup. Nothing like some time off and a good round of sex to help you relax." He took a swig.

"Um," Sam's throat was suddenly dry. Was this a come on? "Do you mean with you?" His voice had fallen to a soft squeak.

Perhaps he should have waited to ask until after Gabriel had swallowed his water, because he had abruptly started coughing as soon as Sam had asked. "Wh-what? No-I meant-"

Well this was new.

A flustered Gabriel.

_How cute._

"I mean- you have a girlfriend don't you?"

Sam pouted his bottom lip out in thought, "Not that I recall no."

Gabriel stood up, looked to the heavens, and threw his arms in the air. "_Jesus fucking Christ."_

Now he was utterly confused. "What?"

Gabriel let his arms drop to slap onto the desk in front of Sam. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"You never asked?"

"Well if I would have known _that _little piece of info earlier that would have been nice. I could have asked you like a week ago."

"Asked me what?"

Gabriel leaned forward, determination clearly etched on his face. "Have dinner with me."

"That wasn't a question." When Gabriel hung his head in exasperation Sam added, "What? It wasn't. Learn your punctuation."

"Sam," He lifted his head, trying sincerely to keep himself from grabbing the man in front of him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Would you care to partake in a late night meal with me?"

Sam crossed his arms and pursed his lips in thought. Pretending to be torn about the invitation. "Hmmm."

Gabriel waited patiently.

"How late?"

"It'll be dark outside."

"Where?"

"My house."

"You cook?"

"I will if I get to put my hands on you afterwards."

Sam snorted. "You're a pervert."

"Would you feel better about it if I took you out on the town first?"

"I suppose so."

Sam had never seen Gabriel perk up so quickly in his whole time working with him. "Great! See you tonight."

He was out the door before Sam remembered the earlier part of their conversation. "Did I just get roped into a booty call?" With a flippant shrug he ultimately decided, _who cares?_

Now he just had to come up with an excuse to tell Dean.

xXx

Dean's cell phone buzzed on the work table next to him. He answered on the third ring. "What's up Sammy?"

"_Hey, so about dinner tonight-"_

"Oh yeah I've been meaning to tell you-"

_I've got something planned. _They said in unison. Dean recovered from surprised silence first.

"Wait what? What do you have to do?"

"_Uh, I just have plans. To eat with someone. That isn't you." _Was that nervous laughter?

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky girl?"

"_Well it's someone from work."_

"Oh a nurse? Hot." Dean chuckled. "Nice work, Sasquatch."

"_It's a doctor actually."_

"Oh a lady in charge? Even better."

"_Uh, sort of?"_

"What's she like? Is she fat?"

"_What? No. But the thing is-"_

"Tall or short?"

"_Short. Dean. Listen it's-"_

"Well good for you, bro. I see you're finally over that huge man crush you had on Gabriel. I'm glad. That would have just gotten awkward anyway. But look I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow."

xXx

The call ended with a swift click before Sam could get another word in. He felt a very large headache coming on. "Well that went well."

How did you tell your older brother that you may or may not be engaging in a sexual relationship with one of his best friends?

Sam sighed. This would take tact, planning, and precision.

xXx

Dean was underneath a Mustang when his cell phone buzzed again an hour later. This time it was a text, seven simple words:

_The dinner date tonight is with Gabriel._

The Mustang above Dean might as well have been invisible, because he forgot about it, tried to sit up, and just ended up thwacking his head against the dirty frame.

The next thing Bobby, Ash, and Castiel knew, "_That tiny mother fucker!" _was echoing through the auto shop.

Bobby looked at Ash who shrugged. Then he looked at Castiel, who looked around to confirm that he was actually the one being looked at. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Someone go check on that dumbass before he kills himself."

xXx

"So tell me again, what's the problem?" Cas was pressing a cold paper towel to the small cut on Dean's eyebrow. It just wasn't his week. Minor concussion, bloody nose, cut eyebrow. Jesus was something out to get him?

They were in the break room. Dean was slouching in one of the chairs and Cas was sitting on his knees in front of him to dab a wet paper towel on his face.

"Because he's my fuckin' baby brother that's why."

"You didn't have a problem with it at the dinner party."

"Yeah well, I didn't think Gabe was _serious."_

Cas pulled his lips into his mouth to keep from letting out a small laugh. "Dean. Were you completely oblivious to the serious sexual tension going on between those two?"

"No," He said honestly, eyes falling on Cas' lips. "I was too caught up in _our _sexual tension."

Dean was rewarded with the faint hint of a blush and a gentle brush of lips against his forehead when Cas stood up. "I'll take care of that later."

"Oh yeah?" And suddenly all the injuries he had sustained during the week didn't seem so bad. "Please tell me you're going to sex me back to good health."

All he got was a lascivious smirk before Cas sauntered out of the room.

"_Fuck me." _Dean groaned, the rest of the day was going to feel like a marathon.

xXx

"Do you think it's okay to have sex on the first date?"

Gabriel stared at him incredulously.

"What?" Cas asked after popping his head through the collar of his sweater, pulling it the rest of the way down once the cotton settled on his shoulders.

His brother squinted at him, "What kind of slut are you?_"_

"Me?" Cas scoffed, "What kind of pedophile are you?"

"Pfft. Sam's different. He's…special." He flopped backward to lie on his bed. Gabriel could see where this conversation was heading from a mile away.

"Is he now?"

"Yes, you big bag of dicks, he is."

Cas seated himself by his brother's side. "You want to fuck him senseless don't you?"

"Well, _duh."_

"So how come_ I'm_ the slut?"

"Cause you and Dean just met!"

"I'm not a baby, Gabe. I'm not even a virgin."

"At your age I would hope not."

Cas punched him in the leg. "Shut up."

xXx

"Of all the people you could have chosen. Did it _have _to be him?"

"I don't see where this is coming from, Dean. You didn't seem to care when you thought it was just a one-sided crush."

"That's because it was _one-sided._ Now it's _two-sided._ You know what that means, Sam?"

"That you're an overprotective drama queen?"

"No! It means-"

"Look, you're just going to have to get over it. I'm not a baby anymore and I really like him."

Dean sulked from his spot putting on his shoes by the front door. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

Sam fixed him with his "I'm serious" bitch face from across the room.

Dean finally huffed in surrender. "Alright, you don't have to be such a bitch about it."

"Yeah well, you're a jerk so…there."

"Nice come back, Sammy, real nice."

"Oh shut up."

xXx

As far as first dates went, Dean usually had the best plan of attack: show up on time (alternatively; show up early), turn on the charm, bring some flowers, woo date, rewarded with sex, mission accomplished. He was a literal _boss _at owning the first date. The first date was his bitch, the second his mistress. Dates and all their forms were usually tucked in Dean's back pocket with his condoms and completely conquered.

So why the fuck did he feel like the awkward kid that's never even been on a lunch date? Dean's heart was about to leap out of his throat when he knocked on the front door. He may or may not have also felt a little queasy.

What the literal _hell_ was happening to him?

Cas answered it almost instantly. He must have been waiting for Dean's arrival. The thought made his heart swell with happiness. _Jesus _he was seriously turning into such a girl.

As soon as he caught sight of the green and navy stripped sweater Cas was wearing, Dean was hit with the most intense urge to wrap the man in front of him up in his arms and cuddle for the rest of the night. They didn't even have to have sex as long as he could just hug the crap out of Cas for looking so cute that Dean's nerves were wreaking havoc on his body. He suddenly didn't know what to do with the hands that itched to touch Cas and shoved them into his pockets.

Cas side stepped to let Dean in the house, leading him into the living room. They were both sitting down on opposite ends of the couch.

It was incredibly awkward.

"Cas," Dean swallowed after a long stretch of silence, "I'm not gonna lie, the only thing I want to do right now is fuck the shit out of you for wearing that sweater." That wasn't too shallow was it? Though if he were being honest, as of right now when it came to Cas, Dean had about as much depth as a plastic kitty pool.

Cas glanced down at himself, brows quirking up in surprise. "Really? I thought it was a pretty good boner killer." When he looked up again Dean was staring at him, and none too discreetly scooting over.

"Why the fuck," Dean paused to lick his lips, arm snaking out to tug Cas toward him, when he got close enough, "would you want to do that?"

"I didn't want you to think I was being slutty."

Dean could have died.

This was Cas trying **not** to be attractive? What did _trying _look like?

Dean dropped his head forward to hide the abrupt giggles bubbling up from his throat in the curve of Cas' neck.

The sudden press of Dean's mouth made him stiffen. In more ways than one. Cas felt the smirk before he saw it.

"Cas," Dean turned his head, "Are you turned on right now?" His mouth hovered purposefully over the pale column of his throat, kissing the soft stretch of skin when the other man swallowed.

"Dean," Cas was already pleading.

_Fuck._

It was his undoing.

Dean practically attacked Cas' mouth, tongue greedily slipping passed the small crease between his lips. He fisted a hand in the green and navy cotton on Cas' back and pushed him backward. He was boneless against the hard shove of Dean's body against his own, pressing easily into the couch. Dean could feel all of Cas and his entirety of arousal under him, and suddenly it was way too fucking hot for clothes.

The sweater didn't stand a chance against Dean's desperate hands. He yanked it up and got it out of the way in seconds, but the article caught on Cas' elbows. The sweater tangled and restricted the movement of his arms, so he let them drop above his head and tried to detangle himself while Dean mouthed at his chest.

"Dean," Cas gasped when Dean nipped his collarbone, writhing when those nips began carting down his body. "This fucking sweater- I can't get it off."

"I'll get you off," Dean chuckled against his navel. "Hold on," He sat up to admire the sight of Cas laid out, nipples pink and beginning to perk, body overall flushed and warm. Dean helped free Cas' arms from the clutches of his dorky sweater, pressing a tame kiss to his mouth once he was free.

"I do hope so," Cas pushed his hands under the graphic tee hindering his view of Dean's chest, fingers rubbing their way up his sides, spreading warmth across the expanse of skin they roamed over. Dean groaned and in response, Cas took that as the cue to pull the tee shirt off. He was careful to ensure Dean didn't suffer the same fate his arms had.

They spent the next several minutes shamelessly making out in a slur of hot, desperate kisses.

Dean eventually worked his way back down Cas' body, blazing a trail of open mouthed kisses down his chest, passed his stomach, pausing at the top of his waistline.

"Hurry," Cas urged, wiggling his hips when Dean popped the button of his jeans out, worked his fly down, and started tugging the denim down his legs. His pants were tossed somewhere in the vicinity of his sweater. But all he could focus on was Dean working his underwear off while simultaneously sucking on a spot along the curve of his hip bone.

Dean grinned down at him, leaning forward to give him another deep kiss, grazing his tongue along the contours of Cas' mouth.

Cas curled his fingers under the waistline of Dean's jeans, slipping the metal button through the stitched hole. He got the fly half way down before Dean stilled his hand by gripping his wrist.

"Not yet," Dean growled in his ear. Cas shuddered helplessly against the hot caress of air heating his skin.

The noise Cas made when Dean touched his bare cock was absolutely beautiful. It was somewhere between a moan and a whine, both fleetingly desperate and demanding. It was so hot Dean nearly came just from hearing it.

"I want you so fucking bad," Dean breathed over the tip, curving his fingers around the shaft, and delighting in the moan he got in response. He began working Cas with slow strokes, watching the body beneath him writhe and tense under all the attention.

Cas cried out as the sudden wet curl of Dean's tongue encircled him, swirling around the tip and drifting down while one hand worked the base. Dean smirked around the flesh in his mouth, humming his satisfaction. The vibrations drew another wanton cry from his partner. If he didn't get inside Cas soon he was going to lose it off of all the noises alone. Dean sat up with a dirty pop, crawled up the panting body covered with a thin layer of sweat, and pressed another gentle kiss to his lips.

"Ready?" He whispered against that kiss swollen mouth.

Cas nodded, drawing his hand in front of Dean's face to hold up a shiny foil square. Which only made him impossibly _more _attractive. "You or me?"

"Depends," Dean started tracing the curve of his jaw with kisses. "How much do you need to prepare?"

"All I need," Cas shifted to slot their mouths together again for a brief tangle of tongues, "Is your cock inside me. Right now."

Dean was literally taken aback by how ridiculously sexy the scrape of that gravelly voice was. "Uh," He suddenly forgot was he was doing, "Right. Okay. Let's-uh, let's do that."

Cas pressed a hand to Dean's chest and pushed him back, brought the other hand holding the foil square to his mouth, and ripped it open with his teeth.

Was Cas on a fucking mission to make him prematurely ejaculate? _Seriously. _ The amount of confidence oozing off the guy was enough to make a sex god cry. He had Dean free from the constraint of his denim prison before he registered Cas dipping his head to kiss him again.

How the hell did he put that condom on so god damn fast?

Then they were kissing like desperate whores again.

"Lube?" Dean asked in between all the rough presses of lips, tongue, and teeth.

"Better idea-"Cas abruptly broke away, settling into a straddle lower on Dean's legs. His jeans were still uncomfortable and tight around his knees, but he was too distracted by the lewd way Cas was looking at him. Those piercing blue eyes shifted to stare greedily at Dean's cock before diving in.

"Holy fuck-" Were the last words he got in for a while.

Cas was merciless. Making the filthiest wet noises as he bobbed his head up and down, and if things continued like this-

Suddenly Cas was at Dean's ankles, yanking his pants and boxers down and off. They were tossed over his shoulder and written off like the rest of their clothes. He was looking very accomplished, grinning from the other end of the couch.

Dean sat up, caught Cas in his arms, and pushed him down on his back again.

And there were absolutely no words to describe how good it felt to ease his way into Cas. The deep satisfaction Dean felt as that warm tightness enclosed around him was something that completely leveled even his love of eating pie.

Yeah.

It felt _that _fucking good.

"_Jesus Christ. _Where have you been all my life?" Dean grunted, rocking forward.

"Heaven obviously," The look of anticipation in those lust blown eyes unleashed the familiar barrage of butterflies having a fucking party in Dean's stomach.

"No shit, how is it up there?"

For some reason it felt natural to carry on a meaningless conversation while they were having sex. It was so foreign.

_Just like Cas._

They were beginning to find a rhythm. Between the rough jerk of Dean's hips and the angled pushes of Cas' body, they found that perfect pace. It rolled pure hot waves of bliss from the top of Dean's head to the tips of his toes. His body was buzzing with an electric energy that worked him hard into the body beneath him. At some point Dean had enough sense to reach between them, working Cas along with the thrust of his hips. Dean's world honed in on everything that was just _Cas._

His breathing, his body, and _fuck_ the way he reacted to everything Dean did. It was amazing he hadn't blown his load already. But he was close. And from the way his back suddenly burned against the bite of nails digging in, Cas was too.

Dean wasn't sure where he ended and Cas started. Where his exhales became Cas' inhales. The juncture where their bodies connected began pooling with a familiar rise of heat. He felt like a bow tightly drawn, the more he pushed in and out of Cas the more his muscles coiled in on themselves. Dean was clutching a hand into that thick mess of hair, face cradled in the dip of Cas' shoulder. He was close, _so _close. Their rhythm was only increasing. Building and building and building. Until finally-

Dean's cry came first, riding out his orgasm just as Cas was pushed over the edge with him. The world went dark for a moment and his chest heaved. It took a second before Dean realized his eyes were closed.

"So," Dean was panting so heavily he felt like he had just run the marathon, "What was heaven like, angel?"

The blue in Cas' eyes twinkled, the glassy shine a sharp contrast to the dark fade of arousal beneath. Everything slowed then, as the two just lay there staring at each other. Dean was now propped up with his palms framing the face of his new sex god.

Cas was the first to actually move, he brushed the hair sticking to Dean's forehead away, fingers trailing along the line of his jaw until they stopped under his chin. "It's nothing compared to being here," He swallowed, adding "with you" in a near whisper.

"Could you be anymore fucking adorable?" Dean bent to kiss Cas five more times in a row.

xXx


End file.
